The Protectors
by Llyra Monroe
Summary: In the beginning, five children were gathered by Bella, Queen of the Fairies, Keeper of the Spirit. They became The Protectors. Only Bella couldn't forsee the perils that awaited Them, nor the evil that would threaten the exisitence of Neverland...
1. The Beginning

The elegant woman sat on a raised dias before the five children. A strange glow emitted from her essence, and her eyes sparkled with curious light. She stood, her soft robes flowing, blown by an unseen wind, and walked gracefully down the ivory steps to the five small figures. Her long white hair streamed behind her, and her delicate shimmering wings fluttered pleasantly when she halted, and then she raised her slender arms to the ceiling of the large, radiating, solar.  
  
"Olukun, my children," she greeted, her voice sounding smooth, like a whisper.  
  
"Olukun," they answered, looking up placidly at her.  
  
"I am Bella, Queen of the Fairies, Keeper of the Spirit," she said, her arms coming down to rest at her sides. The children knelt down before her, bowing their heads in silent reverence. Bella moved in front of the first child, a boy, and he raised to his feet, lifting his face to her light.  
  
He was young, about the age of twelve, and his shaggy brown hair curled lightly around his unusually large ears. His eyes were the color of amber, rimmed with long, dark lashes. The boy's face bore an untamed fierceness, his eyebrows arched dangerously, as if he was ready to pick a fight. Bella peered down at him with her grey all-seeing eyes, and he smiled, revealing sharp teeth.  
  
"Rafe," Bella whispered, and the boy nodded, his hair falling clumsily into his eyes. Bella smiled, reaching out her hand to brush the hair from his eyes, "Rafe, you are a child of the dark forest, a prisoner to the moon, a loup garoux."  
  
"You are wild in your ways, a savage fire burns in your heart, you are a beast of the night, Rafe. You are one of the Protectors," she said, reaching into the pocket of her robe and pulled out a silver chain with a crescent moon dangling from it. She slipped it around Rafe's neck, and he could smell the delightful smell of lilacs as she did so.  
  
She moved on to the next child, a girl, about the same age. She rose, her long black hair parting to expose her round chocolate brown eyes. Her forehead was broad, as were her cheekbones, and her chin jutted out slightly, proving that she was a proud, determined girl. She wore a deer hide skirt, with fringe on the bottom, beaded bracelets adorned her wrists and ankles. She wore no shoes, and her bare feet were weathered and tattooed with tribal markings.   
  
"Tiger Lily," Bella breathed, placing her hands on the shoulders of the girl, "You are a child of the earth, a familiar sister of both the plants and animals, one with the tall grass, and peaceful with the cool wind that rustles them." No expression showed on Tiger Lily's face as she listened to The Fairy Queen.  
  
"You are a proud leader to your people, a stubborn, driven, aggressive spirit," she placed another necklace, from this one was hanging a silver feather, "You, Tiger Lily, are one of the Protectors." A tiny grin spread across the girl's face now, but she quickly hid it, bowing back into position.   
  
"And Kira," she said, her wings fluttering as she stepped in front of the tall blond girl. She was thin, but her arms were muscular, there was a scattering of freckles across her cheeks. Her hair glistened in the light and appeared wet, as did her clothes, which were light blue colored shashes of silk and finery that draped off her trim shoulders. The girl's lips were full and poised, as if she was about to whistle.  
  
"You are a person of the sea, a mermaid. You swim among another world, apart from the world of the sun worshipers of the land. Your people build structures of which the likes have never been seen above the surface. You are strong, thoughtful, and most importantly, kind. This makes you, Kira, a Protector," Bella said, presenting her with a chain from which was hanging a silver seashell. Kira nodded, her lips moving into a shy smile.  
  
Bella glided on to the next child and beckoned for him to stand. Leaves were stuck haphazardly throughout the red strands of wild hair that stood out in all directions from his head, and his green eyes twinkled slyly, as if he knew something everyone else did not. He wore clothes that seemed to be made of jungle leaves and twine, on his skin was colorful remnants of war paint, and at his belt, there was strapped a set of wooden panpipes. The boy looked nervous as he scratched a skinny leg with a dirty bare foot.  
  
"Ah, Peter," Bella sighed, "You are a clever, cunning boy. A born leader, you live in your tree huts high above the ground. Yet, you do not stay on the ground for long, you take to the skies and dance with the stars. You pretend and you wish, everything seems but a game...but deep down inside, there is a sensible disposition, and you exercise this right everyday. This, Peter Pan, is why you are a Protector."  
  
He received a silver chain that had an acorn strung onto it. He beamed his tiny pearls at her as she moved on to the final child.  
  
He seemed different from the others in some way. The boy had dark hair that created a curly mass on top of his head. His ears were pierced with suspended shark teeth, and his eyes were shadowed with charcoal from a driftwood fire. A sword was buckled at his belt, and his hand had never left the hilt of it while he waited for Bella to speak. He wore boots that were laced with tough dried seaweed, and a little dusting of light colored sand clung to the toes of them.  
  
Bella smiled at him, "James, You come from the huts near the long abandoned caves. Your people are secret, they roam in packs. You are an excellent fisherman and an even better hunter. A vigorous heart beats within your chest, and you are a warrior that none shall reckon with, and you are powerful enough to meet the challenges of others," she paused, lowering the silver chain bearing a charm of an eagle's talon, "You, James, are now one of the Protectors."   
  
Bella climbed up the steps and reached her throne that was made of frosty icicles before she turned around. She sat, regally, placing a hand on the orb-tipped staff that leaned against the arm of the throne. Her wings fluttered and sparkled, sending glittering specks of light in the children's direction, it was at this time that she spoke.  
  
"Protectors," she adressed them, and at once they all straightened and listened intently, their young faces tipped upwards, "I am Bella, Queen of the Fairies, and also, The Keeper of the Spirit of Neverland. I have chosing you five children to defend the spirit that keeps all of our world the way it is. You alone hold the key to it's power, and hold it's life in your hands. I, and the other inhabitants of Neverland are putting their trust in you to withhold your duties and not let us down."  
  
"You keep us in eternal youth, spring rains, summer heat, autumn winds, and winter. You are the five guardians of The Spirit...and this is an honor...a great honor to behold..."  
  
Floating orbs of golden light came from the high windows, and flickered down to dance among the children. Peter, in his curiosity reached up to touch one, but it suddenly giggled and shied away. The children gazed with awe at the erratic movement and Bella leaned back in her throne, pleased with her choices, at ease with the Protectors that held a large burden on their shoulders.  
  
Neverland would prosper from this action. 


	2. The Breaking

Rafé sat on his haunches and looked over his shoulder, smelling something odd and alien in the air. His eyes narrowed as he searched the lush, green underbrush behind him, tilting his head to the side, listening for any sound that would betray any danger. He saw nothing, nor smelled anything, yet he could not shake the ever-present feeling of precariousness. 

He was waiting for the change.

The change that would take him from human form, to the form of the wolf. The _loup-garou_. It was his curse, his burden, and his life. When the moon became swollen and full, as if with child, he was called to obey her wishes, become her slave. His brethren would be called upon also, and they were all staring up at the moon, in their own private areas deep within the jungle, breaths held, waiting.

The_ loups-garoux _of the jungle had a past. A dark, secret, ancient past. The old stories said that by ritual, sacrifice, and sacrament, they had opened their souls to the Forest God, the great hunter who took the shape of the wolf. To reward their devotion, his lover, the Moon, gave them the gift to be more than human. Then they could throw aside the pelts of hunted animals and grow their own, abandon the knives of flint and use their teeth. Their children's children still carried the beast within, and all were subject to the Moon.

She came from behind a cloud then, and he felt a pleasant tingly sensation that crawled up his back, the beginning of his dark, brown pelt. He heard the sickly crunch of bones as his legs bent into shape and he fell forward, massive paws growing where his hands used to have been. His face elongated, and a snout pushed through, baring sharp, pointy teeth of ivory. His ears grew larger, and a long hairy tail sprouted from his hind end, the change was almost complete. 

Rafé's voice burst emitted from his fanged mouth, though it was not his own. He let out a deep, joyful howl, praising the Moon for her blessing, her curse. More howls came from within the jungle, and he felt a strange rush as his voice joined theirs, as if singing a ballad of their appreciation of Her gift.

Then, just as suddenly as She had come, the Moon slinked back behind a cloud, seeing that Her job was done. The forest became silent again, a soft, warm breeze rustled the leaves, and Rafé reveled in the feeling of the wind ruffling his fur. The beautiful night was his.

He ran.

______________________________________________________________________________________

She bounded over a fallen log with lithe agility, her black beaded braids flying behind her as she ran through the forest. Her tanned legs moved even faster when she heard the chilling cry of the Moon-Dogs errupt from the dark jungle. The change had ended, and it was dangerous to be out when the pack was on the prowl.

But Tiger Lily wasn't stupid.

She needed to find Rafé. And fast. Before something even worse could happen. Calm, levelheaded Rafé would know what to do. Great Spirit, she hoped she wasn't too late.

Tiger Lily paused, putting her hand out to support herself on a tall tree to catch her breath. A familiar sent passed her way, blown by a wind that had suddenly turned cold. Stilling her heavy breathing, she waited, listening intently, and smelling the air. Rafé. And he was near.

She took off again, in the direction that she prayed was the right one, running as fast as her feet could will themselves to go. The surrounding trees were dark and she found it hard to navigate through the thick, tangled growth. Rafé turned when he heard her crashing through the scrub like a noisy baby elephant, searching her face with his golden eyes.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice deep and rough through his fanged mouth. Tiger Lily held her side, panting, a pained look on her face, "Peter…Kira…on the rock…"

"What?" Rafé asked, stepping closer.

"…James…killed her…"

"James?" 

"No time to explain…" she said, starting to run again, "…Must…get to the beach…"

Rafé caught up with her and brushed against her arm, "Climb on, and we'll fly," he ordered, for after the change he had grown large and strong, about as big as a pony that the Indians bred at Big Cliff. Tiger Lilly nodded and swung her leg over his back and gripped his fur tightly in her fists.

"Then, fly!" 

______________________________________________________________________________________

The ocean lapped gently at the mermaid's scaly fins as Rafé and Tiger Lily stepped onto the white, sandy beach. They saw Kira lying there, half of her body in the water, and Peter crouched over her, hiding her face from view. The moon shone bright as the children ran up behind Peter, and Tiger Lily could not stifle her gasp.

"She won't stop crying," Peter said, moving away so that they could see the deep wound just above her heart, crimson blood darkening her gauzy sashes, staining Peter's hands. Her eyes seemed to stare blankly at the sky, no life was to be found behind them, and her mouth was slightly opened, as if she was singing one of her mermaid songs.

Rafé lowered his nose to sniff at her, then licked at her cheek, tying to wake her up, unable to understand, like Peter, that she had died. Tiger Lily just fell to her knees, and grabbed Kira's hand, her face expressionless. She was the only one of them who knew of loss before this.

"Her tears are dark…" Peter said, his face blotchy, and he had obviously been crying.

"Those aren't tears," Tiger Lily said, and she reached over to comfort, but he recoiled from her touch.

"James did it," he said, his tone had changed. A stormy look now passed over his usually cheerful features. Rafé did not try to hide the angry growl in his voice, "Where is he?"

Tiger Lily stood, looking out at the water, now choppy, and said, "Out there…"

______________________________________________________________________________________

He hadn't meant to stab her.

Peter was the one that had meant to die. Rightfully so, for he had stolen the very thing that was worth anything to him, the only thing that kept him alive. He had stolen the only thing that was his.

Kira.

James had seen them on the rock that night, in the Mermaid Lagoon. The sun had just set, turning the water purplish, and the sky a tranquil pinkish-orange. Kira had looked so beautiful, perched on the rock, splashing her fish-like tail through the water. The way she threw her head back when she laughed, spilling her long, blond locks over her shoulder, made him love her even more. He loved every single freckle on her nose, and every single scale on her body.

Yet the boy who had made her laugh had to die.

Peter sat on the very peak of the rock, reclining against it's coolness, his carefully whittled panpipes in one hand, and the other moving in graceful movements through the air, as he told a story. James hated everything about the flying boy. His quick wit, his obnoxious smile, his spiky red hair, and that he loved the prettiest mermaid in Neverland. 

And she loved him back.

He didn't blame her, any woman could fall under the charms of his perfect, pearly-white grin. He didn't hate her for being blind to his advances, ignoring his sweet gestures, seeing him as only a friend. She was flawless in her beauty, and he couldn't get to her until Peter Pan was out of the picture. Forever.

And this was the night that he'd chosen to strike.

He swam out to the rock, his dagger hidden in his belt, under his tunic. They had both smiled at him, welcoming him to join in on their conversation.

"James…where have you been?" Peter asked, with his stupid grin plastered on his face.

"I've been around," he said, acting cool, and hefting himself onto the rock. Kira smiled sweetly at him, "Glad to see you away from the clan."

Oh, how he loved her with every molecule of his being. Those few words were music to his ears, and made his heart sing. And she would love him even more after the Pan was dead. James reached into his tunic and drew the dagger, standing as tall as he could on the wet rock.

"Ready for a fight, friend?" Peter raised an eyebrow, thinking it a game.

"I've been ready," he said darkly, watching Peter raise his own dagger.

"Oh, I hate this game!" Kira pouted, sinking back into the water, as if to go.

"Don't leave," they both said together, reaching their hands out to her. Kira bit her lip, "If only I get to play too."

James had begun to object when Peter floated off the ground, giving a little hoot.

"That's a great idea!" he said, standing with his hands on his hips, his typical stance, "You can be the damsel in distress…"

"Ooooo, goodie!" Kira clapped her hands in delight. James smiled to himself. He could make this work in his favor. Playing along, he asked, "And what is my role?"

"Why, you're the evil sorcerer," Peter said, scowling at him playfully, "And I am the knight, fighting you for my lady love."

"Why do I always have to be the bad guy?" James tried to hide the whine in his voice.

"Because you're so good at it," Kira purred from the water, and James decided that being the evil sorcerer wasn't so bad.

"On your guard, Sorcerer," Peter said.

"No, you should be on yours…"

And battle ensued. Peter was being fair by not flying, and they scrambled over the rocky terrain, exchanging blows. At first, James was letting him win, but Peter tripped him, and he fell down the rock, into the water. He laughed as James crawled, dripping from the lagoon.

"I would not laugh if I were you," James said darkly, glaring at him. But he kept on laughing. It was the most contagious of gurgles that even Kira was laughing behind her hands. James drew his dagger back, and shouted, "Stop laughing."

"James?" Peter asked, staring at him, confused by his change of mood. Kira watched worriedly from her place in the water.

"Die, Pan!" James yelled furiously, and let loose the dagger, throwing it straight at his chest.

"No!" Kira screamed, and using all her strength, she lunged out of the water and threw herself in the weapon's path, trying to save Peter, who was frozen in place.

He hadn't meant to kill her.

The sharp dagger had struck her in the chest, and she fell into Peter, sending them both tumbling down the slippery rock, into the water. James hadn't stayed to watch them surface. He fled. 

James lugged one of the fishing boats through the white sand, down to the water in the darkness. He had to get away. Putting all of his belongings into a small satchel and a sack of tropical fruits and flat bread in another, he threw them into the crudely made boat. He shoved off the beach, his hands shaking, and slipped the oars silently into the dark water, not wanting to wake the clan.

They wouldn't miss him, so he didn't say goodbye.

Using all of his strength, James rowed himself out farther from the sleeping island, praying that the boat could carry him all the way to the mainland. Wherever that was. The clan told of stories of a brave young man who left the island once, searching stupidly for a new life, and new adventures. They said he didn't even make it twenty yards from the shore, for his boat was eaten whole by a Kell-Shark, one of the most ferocious beasts to inhabit Neverland.

James hoped the Kell-Shark was napping elsewhere.

He looked back at the island, his last sight before turning his gaze away, not wanting to be reminded of the terror that had just been unleashed. He saw a small figure, on the beach, far away in the Lagoon's cove, standing, her hair blowing in the harsh wind about her. He knew who she was, but ignored her silent plea to come back.

He would never come back to Neverland. And never is an awfully long time.

______________________________________________________________________________________

Bella pitched forward in her ice throne, suddenly overcome by a burst of hot pain. Gasping for breath, she gripped the armrest to help her up, but was taken by another sharp spasm. Her head spinning, the Queen of the Fairies tried to call out, but her voice cracked, her throat strangely dry and exhausted. She opened her cloudy grey eyes and saw all. 

The Protectors had crumbled.

They had failed her.

They had divided.

And it would send Neverland into despair.

Another shock of pain ran through Bella's body, and she tumbled down the steps, sprawling in an awkward position. Her breathing slowed, and her celestial light began to fade…her hair losing it's softness, her hands losing their gracefulness. Reaching out to the sky, Bella whispered, "Neverland is falling into darkness…"

And she fell into darkness herself.


	3. The Feather

Almost twenty-five years have passed since James left the magical island of Neverland. Twenty-five long years. The Protectors have split, leaving the Spirit of Neverland unprotected. Leaving Neverland to suffer alone. In Darkness.

In the span of twenty-five years, Neverland has become a dry, desert wasteland. It's once lush, green forests have gone dormant, fading into eternal autumn, their long branches growing gnarled and twisted. The sparkling waterfall and the surrounding river and streams have slowed to a trickle, leaving the island's ground parched and cracked. Dust storms frequent the island, whipping sand around mercilessly, filling the mouths of Neverland's inhabitants with grimy dirt, and leaving them caked with dust.

The wild beasts have turned ravenous in their hunger, growing more powerful and dangerous every passing year. Their savage souls had awakened after James left, and spurred them to thirst only for blood. They always hunt, stalking the island, through it's unruly dead jungles, a constant hunger paining their stomachs. Hair long, sweaty and shaggy, their teeth and claws sharper than a rose's thorn. They have become fierce predators, falling prisoner to their untamed feral instincts. The beasts never sleep.

The gypsy clan to which James belonged disappeared, shortly after he did, never to be seen again. They left in boats, by the dozen, leaving only their tattered huts and smoldering campfires behind. Some say they felt guilt for James' actions, others say that they were frightened of Neverland's Darkness.

Mermaids can be heard on some nights, far away from the shore, moaning hauntingly sad tunes. They cry, they mourn, for the death of their sister, Kira, whose death occurred so many moons ago. Since then, they have retreated under the waves, down deeper than any anchor can fathom, locking themselves into their castles made of shells and reeds, seeking refuge, waiting for salvation. The mermaids cry salty tears, because they know that the salvation they yearn for will never come.

On top of Big Cliff, tall, wooden stockades have been erected, for the Indian tribe has gone into hiding. They have built massive protective walls around their village of wigwams, either keeping something in…or keeping something out. Though drums can be heard at times, they never leave the stockades, and those who do, don't return. Their fires don't last for long.

The Lost Boys have dispersed, abandoning their grouping of tree houses in the forest. The ladders have fallen, crushed by the humongous paws of some wild beast, and their huts high above the ground are silent, deprived of the laughter that used to ring through the jungle at night. Not one of them dreams of anything but fear, and the murky, foreboding, Darkness.

The fairies have burrowed down deep into the dry, parched soil, unable to face the desperate state of Neverland. They evacuated their beautiful flowers, now left to wilt alone, shading their eyes with slender hands and gauzy wings. Their cowardice has proven themselves their true worth…their lights have extinguished. So have their bells.

Bella has lain, slumped in her solar, amidst the sacred Fae Realm, taking ragged breaths. Her mind drifts in and out of darkness, she dreams of nothing, and all hope has left her. She is in unceasing desolation, having nothing to hold onto, having no purpose to live. She is dying, alone.

And over these twenty-five years, James had taken something with him that is departing Neverland from it's existence. Youth. Every five years, the occupants of Neverland get one year older. They are dying. They are getting older, and older, and soon, they will disappear into the watery mists of dreamland, never to be dreamed again by any child as they sleep in their beds. Darkness envelops the island and all is quiet now. Dying alone.

Neverland is alone.

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Her bare feet lifted little pafs of dry dust off the ground as she made her way through the dead, decaying forest. She raised her slender arm above her head and squinted to shield her eyes from the sun. Gnarled branches reached out for her long black hair and tanned skinned body. She dodged their grasp, bringing herself back to the task at hand. Food.

Her stomach rumbled as she knelt down to inspect the imprints in the dust. Deer prints. And she was hot on her trail. She stood and darted off in the direction she thought the deer was going, lifting her knees high as to not tangle them in the dried vines that lay scattered on the ground. Then, suddenly, she sniffed the air, and her chocolate brown eyes darted quickly through the rotted trees. Tiger Lily was no fool. Something was following her. And it was no deer.

She whipped the bow and arrows from the strap on her back and held them at the ready. Searching the trees with her eyes, she listened for any kind of sound that would give away her pursuer. She heard nothing, and that was normal for these woods. Her heart almost pained at the memory of a time long since past when she used to play in this jungle when it was alive and green, listening to the fairies giggle and the mockingbirds sing. Tiger Lily could almost smell the sweet nectar from the gardenias that used to bloom everywhere in the jungle.

Shaking her head, she brought herself out of her reminiscence, once again straining her ears for the sound. But there was no time to check it out now. Her people were starving. Lowering her bow, she began her hunt again, keeping one eye on the faint deer tracks, and the other eye behind her. She stalked silently through the destroyed forest. It was only when she parted the fronds of a crispy brown fern that she saw her. She saw the deer she had been hunting, it's fine golden brown coat gleaming in the sunlight of the day. It would bring a lot of meat into the children's stomachs of her village.

Tiger Lily's mouth began to water, but her smile faded when she realized it was caught in a trap of it's own. A giant spider web stretched between two strong trees across her path, the silky white filigrees twisting and weaving into an intricate, and yet beautiful pattern. There were other small animals stuck to the thick threads of the web, and like the deer, they were frantically trying to get loose.

"Great Spirit," she breathed as she took a step towards the frenzied animals. The deer's eyes rolled wildly, froth flying from her open mouth, she started to thrash and whimper loudly. Tiger Lily raised her hand as if to prove that she meant no harm, "Quiet Deer, I help…"

The deer thrashed once more, then quieted, understanding her good intentions and allowed her to come closer. She unsheathed the knife at her waist and began sawing at the deer's bonds. She gripped a thick filigree to brace herself as she tried to free the deer. Tiger Lily had cut away the threads around his head, and took her hand away to move down to the legs. A sticky, stringy, substance stuck to her hands when she pulled her hand away from the web, and frightened, she took a step back.

She hit something furry, and solid.

Whipping around, Tiger Lily came eye to eyes with a monster of the forest. The beast was twice as tall as her, and it's black furry body was just about as wide. It had a large head, with dangerous pinchers that opened and closed, serving as a mouth. The beast had eight furry legs sprouting from it's monstrous body, and they were spread wide, giving Tiger Lily no chance of escape. And then it spoke.

"A human _child _in the forest?" the she-beast blinked her eight eyes in unison, fluttering her dark eyelashes, "Well, _this_ is a treat…"

Her voice sounded like rock scraping against rock. Tiger Lily's face grew fierce as she raised her knife to defend herself, but just as she had arched her arm to stab at the she-beast, a furry leg flew across and swiped the knife, flinging it to the ground.

"Silly _child_," she spoke slowly, "You _thought_ you could steal my dinner?" The she-beast shifted, lifted a leg, and pushed her back into the sticky web next to the thrashing deer. Tiger Lily struggled to free herself, but could not. The she-beast's dark eyelashes fluttered again as she blinked her many eyes, "Then, I shall have you too…"

The she-beast leaned forward, and opened her mouth, exposing her fangs dripping with dark violet venom. She sank her fangs into Tiger Lily's neck, paralyzing her, sending a cold chill throughout her body. Tiger Lily's head began to spin, everything became just colors, and moving shapes. Sounds seemed duller, and the scent of the deer next to her became warped and twisted, the deer reeked of death.

Then Tiger Lily's world became suddenly dark. Darker than the Darkness of Neverland.


End file.
